Troubled Souls
by TheDoctorsCompanion13
Summary: One year after the kaiju war, Hermann and Newton have relocated to Berlin to continue studying the kaiju in order to unlock the secrets of the Anteverse. What they don't know is that the Precursors, the creators of the kaiju, plan to do the same with Earth by utilizing the connection from the remaining kaiju to Newton's mind.
1. Chapter 1

_At the other end of a broken bridge between two dimensions, those responsible for creating the kaiju, those that survived the blast from Gipsy Danger, conversed with one another. They spoke of plans, of how to proceed, how to survive and exact revenge. The world known as Earth bit back when they sunk their teeth into the planet's crust like no other had. They were denied what belonged to them but they refused to leave without it._

_They saw little hope for anything except to slowly rebuild the tunnel on their own which could take almost more cycles than they cared to waste. Their builders began construction as the Precursors gathered up the remaining kaiju on the wasteland that was their most recently conquered and scavenged planet, with the intention of slaughtering their failed creations._

_When they raised their pointed weapons to their throats, they heard the kaiju wail in unison. They cried about a human they all saw in their heads, just behind their eyeballs like his image was burned there forever. The Precursors paused, lowering their weapons, chattering to each other in an unknown language about a link. Whoever plagued the thoughts of the kaiju could act as a link between their dimension and the one they desired to reach._

_They spared the kaiju, took them and plugged into their brains to see his face. And saw him they did. A small man with dark hair and images of their kaiju plastered colorfully on his arms. His body may have been small, but the kaiju also knew of his mind and that was a large treasure. He knew of the kaiju, the Precursors, and of the tunnel itself, all of which lent sparks of excitement to a new idea._

* * *

One year after the end of the kaiju war, Newton and Hermann made themselves a home at an apartment in Berlin. They'd found the place not long after the Shatterdome in Hong Kong closed and they transformed it into something of a haven where they felt comfortable.

The thought crossed their minds as Newton hung up his inflatable Jaeger and Hermann his chalkboard that perhaps they shouldn't share a space as they had in a lab for ten years. Yet, they found that time apart caused a pull in their minds, like a long piece of string wrapped around their brains that was connected to the other person. The greater the distance, the harder the pull. Raleigh informed them it was a side effect of Drifting.

They could've lived apart but they saw no reason to when it was ingrained in them for so long. They worked well together despite the arguments and their home life turned out to be no different. They kept their own spaces within the two-bedroom apartment but tended to clash in those they shared like the kitchen and the living area. However, it never became anything that couldn't be solved with a few hours of silence and quiet apologies.

"You know, there's a reason this kitchen is big enough for two people," Hermann complained as Newton invaded his personal space so that they both crowded around a black granite counter atop dark wooden cabinets.

Newton, who stood shirtless, tattoos exposed, with a tired expression, held a bowl full of dry cereal in one hand and reached out for the gallon of milk on the counter with the other. Hermann looked up from spreading jam on his toast and promptly slapped the hand away.

"Come on, man," he whined. "I need the milk too."

"Du bist so ein Kind," Hermann grumbled under his breath, slipping seamlessly into a German accent.

"Yeah, same to you!"

He gave up and walked out of the white tile floored room to the adjoining one with stained wood floors. The room was small with only a rectangular dining table in the center and a single chair on each side. It was well lit with three windows set into the white walls to which Hermann had already opened the curtains just as he had previously showered and dressed.

Newton dragged out the chair closest to him and plopped into the cushioned seat, pulling it back toward the table where he set down his bowl of dry cereal and useless spoon. He glared at the colorful loops of grain and sugar and popped one into his mouth, munching on it bitterly. A disgruntled expression settled on his face until Hermann joined him, taking a couple of trips to set down his breakfast, before he silently placed the milk in front of him. Newton brightened instantly.

"Thanks, dude!" Newton said, pouring the liquid over the cereal before greedily digging in.

"Don't call me dude," Hermann replied, not bothering to look over at Newton as he sipped his steaming cup of tea.

They ate breakfast in relative silence, Newton smiling like an appeased child as he practically inhaled the sugary soup.

"So, what are we doing today?" Newton asked with a full mouth.

Hermann sighed as he cut into his poached eggs. "We're just going into the lab to run some tests on a new shipment of salvaged kaiju parts."

"A new shipment? From where?" Newton said, leaning back in his chair as his brows knitted together.

"Where do you think?" Hermann said, raising an eyebrow.

Newton thought on it and a memory arose from his time in Hong Kong, specifically of the vast collection of one Hannibal Chau. "The black market? Really?"

"Where else are we supposed to get any testing material when scavengers always pick up the scraps first?" Hermann said.

Newton shrugged. He understood the ends even if the means were illegal. All he cared about was being able to test on kaiju again, though the purpose was completely different. Before, they'd hoped to learn from them in order to stop them. Their new goal was to study them to learn about other dimensions, specifically the one they emerged from.

Newton quickly finished his breakfast and carelessly dropped the bowl into the sink before he showered and dressed in his white shirt and skinny black tie. He never bothered to update his work clothes because they felt comfortable and they looked pretty good on him, in his opinion. He threw on his shoes and leather jacket as Hermann rested his cane beside the door before pulling on his fluffy parka.

"I still can't believe you spent our money on that preposterous machine," Hermann grumbled as they stepped out of their front door, Newton grabbing a set of keys on the way out.

"It's not preposterous, it's cool," Newton countered. "And it'll pay itself off with the gas money we save."

They walked out onto their short, paved driveway where a shiny, black Harley Davidson sat with two helmets, one on the seat and the other on the right handlebar.

"I think I would've rather paid the extra money for something with four wheels," Hermann said, frowning at the motorcycle.

"What, like an ATV?"

Hermann pinched the bridge of his nose before hobbling forward, leaving Newton to lock up the apartment. Once the door was securely locked, he hopped over to the bike and shoved the black, visored helmet onto his head. He reached his hand out to Hermann who forked over his cane and then he snapped it into place on the mount he had installed along the side of it.

Newton threw his leg over the bike and made himself comfortable on the seat before lifting the kickstand, keeping it balanced with his feet. Hermann placed a hand instinctively on Newton's shoulder as he moved his leg over, taking a little bit longer to sit down, fitting himself against Newton's body.

"This is so undignified," Hermann said, wrapping his arms around Newton's waist.

Newton laughed. "You know you like it."

Hermann began to protest but Newton turned the key in the ignition to drown him out. He revved the engine a few times before pulling out onto the road. Hermann's grip around Newton tightened as they sped down the streets, heading toward the local Shatterdome. The Berlin Shatterdome, like a few others, remained open solely for research purposes, all of the Jaeger's having been destroyed or shut down a year earlier.

The drive wasn't long and soon they pulled into the parking lot bustling with people carrying shipping containers. Newton had to dodge a few people before settling in his reserved parking space. He waited until Hermann climbed off the bike before putting up the kickstand and shoving the keys in his pocket. They left their helmets on the motorcycle and looked around at everyone moving back and forth, transporting crates on dollies and by hand.

"How much did they get off the black market?" Newton wondered, awe creeping into his tone.

"This can't all be Kaiju parts," Hermann said, mostly to himself.

Newton looked at Hermann and shrugged. "Only one way to find out."

He unclipped Hermann's cane from the bike and handed it to him before they walked off toward the elevator entrance. They rode down with a few of the box carriers and Newton attempted to check the package labels to see what they were. His technique was so far from discreet that Hermann smacked him in the leg with the cane when he moved to look over one of worker's shoulders.

"Ow!" he hissed, moving back to stand next to Hermann.

"Stop that. It's not like we won't know soon enough," Hermann chastised at a raised whisper.

Newton glared at him, but it didn't last long. His gaze softened and he forgave just as the elevator doors opened to the ground floor of the Shatterdome. Everyone swiftly exited and walked off in separate directions, Newton and Hermann keeping straight while the carriers veered to the right toward the open floor where the discontinued Jaeger's stood on display.

By instinct, Newton slowed his pace so that Hermann could keep up. It was an action he'd grown accustomed to after years of working with him and it occurred even more naturally after their time in the Drift. Newton even started to notice times where Hermann walked like he didn't need a cane, as if his pace mimicked Newton's.

They soon reached the rusted metal door of their lab that was carelessly thrown open, crates stacked just inside. He heard Hermann huff to his right, clearly frustrated at the intrusion. He walked around Newton and into the large space, much larger than their old lab. They received an upgrade for being a part of the team that saved the world, one that they both were grateful for as it caused them to butt heads a little less.

Newton followed closely behind, seeing all of the boxes placed everywhere on both sides of the room. Everything else still seemed to be in place, though, as Newton checked his action figures and the testing equipment he left out from the day before. Hermann muttered angrily to himself as he shifted a table slightly to the right.

"Everything looks fine, Hermann. No one touched anything," Newton said, leaning his lower back and hands against a metal table.

"Yes, well, they still could've waited for our authorization," Hermann replied, poking at one of the wooden boxes with his cane.

"Something tells me this goes far over our heads."

Newton grabbed a blade from a nearby table and walked over to Hermann, quickly prying open the top of the crate to find a sea of packing material. Hermann set his cane aside and dug through it all until he pulled out a glass cube filled with liquid that held a large eye floating in its center. Newton grabbed it from him and set it down on one of his tables before opening the one beneath it which held a sizable skin sample. The huge crate on the bottom contained a well-preserved piece of a secondary brain.

"It's a good thing we have a lot more room. We would've been fucked in the old lab," Newton said, crossing his arms.

"Language, Newton! We've discussed this."

"Tch, what are you, my mom? We're both adults."

"Some more than others," Hermann said, shooting him a pointed look. Newton stuck his tongue out at him when he turned his back.

They cleared the two smaller crates out of the lab, leaving the brain until the lab assistants arrived to help them lift it. They instead focused on what they'd already extracted, Newton more so than Hermann. Hermann, with his love and faith in numbers, spent months using what knowledge he had gleaned from the Breach, the throat, and the genetic makeup of the kaiju to calculate what the other dimension might look like, what elements it was comprised of.

Newton always preferred the hands on approach to science, getting elbow deep in kaiju guts, studying samples, doing spur of the moment experiments on mere hunches. More often than not, his results ended up wrong or inconclusive, but the moments where he proved himself correct in spite of the disbelief around him kept him moving forward.

They spent the day doing exactly that, both concentrating on what they did best while a few assistants in lab coats unpacked all of the crates, placing everything according to Hermann's shouted instructions. Newton couldn't help but laugh quietly to himself at the fear he saw in their eyes, like Hermann was the strict disciplinarian parent. They couldn't see the soft heart beneath the thick, steel shell like he could.

As the thought crossed his mind, he barely noticed that he was staring at Hermann as he navigated his chalkboards with the skill of a choreographed dance over the eye piece of his microscope. A cough at his ear startled him and his whipped his head to the side to see a young woman, no more than twenty-five, standing there, looking apologetic. She held up a container that was full of ammonia for a skin parasite.

"Sorry to bother you, Dr. Geiszler," she began nervously, her British accent thickening.

"Please, call me Newt," he said, turning toward her in his rolling desk chair.

She appeared taken aback, though it wasn't the first time he'd made the request. All of the assistants seemed too intimidated to take him at his word.

"Um, you said you wanted to run some tests on a parasite next?" she said, completely disregarding what he said. "Dr. Gottlieb told me to leave this with you."

"Yes, thank you, Anna," he said with a reassuring smile. "Just set it on that table over there. Wherever there's room. You can just push stuff aside if you need to make room."

She nodded and scurried away, setting the case on the floor for a moment to move some beakers out of the way.

"It's like you put the fear of God into these poor kids, Hermann," Newton said, returning to the small skin sample on his slide.

"Don't call me that outside of the apartment," he snapped. "And these kids could stand to learn some respect."

Newton shook his head, an amused smile on his face. "They're plenty respectful. You're just a power hungry madman."

Hermann turned and glared at him, causing him to brighten his smile. His frown deepened into a scowl as he returned to his calculations, distinctly muttering to himself in German out of anger.

"Ich gehört dass!" Newton shouted.

They concentrated back on their work, allowing themselves to be consumed by it as the hours flew by. The moment that the silence settled unnervingly in Newton's ears is when he finally noticed how much time passed. He looked up from the dissected parasite to Hermann, who sat in a chair, staring hard at his calculations like an art critic. He packed up the parasite in its ammonia filled case so it wouldn't decompose overnight before approaching him.

"Hey, Hermann, I think it's probably time to go."

"Hm?" he replied absently.

"I think we're the last two people still here," he said, crouching down next to him. "This stuff can wait 'til you get some sleep."

"You go, I need to stay," Hermann said without looking at him.

"Do not make me carry you because I will." Hermann finally looked at him, horror creeping over his face. "Yeah, I'm talking bridal style, Herm."

He sighed. "Fine. Give me my cane."

* * *

After the drive home, they both wearily stepped into their apartment, locking the door behind them. Newton yawned, tossing the keys in his hand onto one of the kitchen counters before walking down the wide hallway. He passed the open doorway to the living area, the bathroom, until he reached the last door on the left. An old, crinkled Pan Pacific propaganda poster featuring a kaiju was taped to it, claiming it as his and, once on the other side, he removed his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the pale blue carpet.

He stood in a white cotton undershirt and boxers, stretching and yawning once more, before he set his glasses down on his cluttered end table, a large, gutted guitar amplifier from his days in the Black Velvet Rabbits. He crawled into bed, under the covers, and looked up at the inflatable Jaeger and kaiju facing off as they hung from his ceiling. A few minutes later, as his eyes closed, he passed out from exhaustion, allowing darkness to overcome him.

His consciousness remained peacefully suspended in the black nothingness for a while, a calm dreamless sleep, until a jolt hit his brain. The blackness wavered, like a television shifting in and out of static, until a series of images overloaded his mind like a sudden volcanic eruption. Red, a sea of red, like a deep sunset or how Newton used to imagined what the apocalypse might look like. An explosion. Screaming. Pain and anger. It wracked his body as if he were experiencing it all first hand. He saw himself through the eyes of someone else and he saw kaiju. They cried out and the noise felt like drills in his eardrums.

A sharp pain shot through his throat as his body started to shake. The rush of images paused and shattered and his eyes fluttered open to a dark room. A loud sound reached his ears and a few seconds passed before he realized he was screaming. He stopped, feeling the raw burn in his throat, and looked up into the wide, worried eyes of Hermann.

Hermann finally stopped shaking him and let him go before sitting back on the bed and rubbing his face with his hands. When he pulled his hands away, he looked disapproving again, as if everything that just happened was something Newton did on purpose. Newton stole a deep, greedy breath to fill his deprived lungs and cool his throat. His shirt was plastered to his body with sweat that left a sheen on his arms and his head pounded like he drank an entire liquor store.

"Hermann, what happened?" Newton said, his voice cracking and raspy. He pushed his weakened body up into a sitting position and his head exploded from the movement.

"What happened!?" he said incredulously. "You were crying out and seizing in your sleep. How many times am I going to have to find you like this?"

Newton didn't know what to think but it explained how he felt. He absent-mindedly licked his lips and tasted something wet and coppery. He reached up and touched his face beneath his nose before pulling it away to look down at his blood soaked fingers.

"Ugh," he groaned. "Everything hurts, dude."

Hermann stood and walked out of the room for a moment, returning with a dampened cloth. He sat down on the bed and placed his free hand under Newton's chin to make him look up. Newton grimaced at the gesture but he also leaned into the touch as Hermann carefully wiped the blood away.

"Do you have any idea what could've caused this type of reaction?" Hermann asked, pulling his hands away after the last of the blood was gone.

A part of Newton didn't want the touch to stop. "I dunno. I was having some funky dreams," he said, holding his pounding head to keep it from falling apart.

"Dreams? You think dreams caused this?"

Pieces of his nightmare swam back into his head, the images blurred. He closed his eyes tightly as if surrounding them in darkness might clear them up. They felt both new and familiar and he concentrated on it until it hit him why.

"The Drift," he said, opening his eyes to look at Hermann.

"What?"

"My dream, it felt like being in the Drift," he clarified.

Hermann stared at him for a long moment before standing and exiting the room once more. He returned a few minutes later after dropping off the bloody cloth with a small, rectangular item in his left hand. He held it out to Newton who accepted it. It was a silver voice recorder.

"Is this mine? I've been looking everywhere for this!"

"Now is not the time!" Hermann interrupted. "Press record and tell me everything you remember."

He glared at Hermann for a few seconds before actually doing what he said. He waited to gather what thoughts about it he could remember and hit the record button. "Like I said before hitting record, the dream I had reminded me of my previous experiences in the Drift. It was like a series of images and feelings overwhelming my brain."

"Anything specific?" Hermann asked, sitting in a small armchair against a wall off to Newton's right.

"I remember a lot of screaming."

"Yes, that was you," Hermann said.

"Not my screaming, Hermann," Newton snapped. "It was… inhuman. And I felt pain and I remember an explosion and the color red. And kaiju. The kaiju were screaming too."

"Newton," Hermann began softly, like a parent breaking news to a child. Newton already felt indignant before he even began to speak. "Are you sure this isn't a case of post-traumatic stress?"

"Yes! I'm very sure," Newton said with a pointed look. He threw the covers off and moved so that he sat comfortably on the edge of the bed. "PTSD doesn't manifest like this. My whole body hurts. I woke up with a nose bleed. At this point, I wouldn't be surprised if my brain started leaking out of my ears."

"It was merely a suggestion," Hermann said, crossing his arms.

A biting remark rolled around on his tongue but he held it back. He knew Hermann was simply trying to eliminate more probable causes and PTSD did make sense with what they both had experienced. Newton sighed, rubbing his forehead as pain pulsated against his skull. He tried to remember more about the dream but the images began to fade.

"I don't think I can remember anything else," he said, stopping the recording. "Do we have any aspirin or a vicodin?"

Hermann nodded with understanding as he stood up with help from the cane in his right hand. "Lay back and rest. You'll need it if you feel as bad as you say."

He did as told, pushing the damp sheet away from him as he lay uncovered on his bed. He looked over to his amp end table at the red numbers on his digital clock. A little after three in the morning. Exhaustion swept over him as if he hadn't slept at all and he almost fell back asleep before Hermann returned. When he did, he had Newton sit up again before handing him the pills and glass of water.

"Thank you," Newton said in a grateful breath.

He popped both pills in his mouth and drained the glass, the water soothing the soreness he felt. Hermann grabbed the glass and the voice recorder from him before settling into the armchair he sat in earlier. "I'll be staying here until morning. For research purposes," he added. "I want to be present when it begins if it occurs again. The more information, the better chance we have of discovering the source of the problem."

"Dude, I dunno if I can sleep with you watching me. That's a little creepy," Newton said, lying back down.

Hermann shot him one of his famous annoyed college professor looks and Newton held up his hands in surrender before turning away from him to sleep. He sprawled out on the bed, boxers riding up so that the tattoos on his thighs showed. Rather than feel the chill of having eyes on him while he tried to sleep, he felt oddly comforted knowing Hermann was there if he needed him. He hoped that the medication he ingested would soon curb the pain before he allowed his fatigue to overpower him and lull him into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

When Newton opened his eyes again, a faint light leaked in from behind the shade of his one window. He stretched out and rolled over to look at his clock and spotted Hermann, leaning to the side and fast asleep. A smile spread over his face at the sight, how peaceful and vulnerable he appeared. Hermann never allowed his vulnerability to show so it was a unique sight.

The clock told him the time of ten after eight, less than an hour before they were normally at work in the lab. Newton stood and slipped on his glasses before pulling the black, tattered comforter from his bed and laying it over Hermann's sleeping form. He knew Hermann would be angry when he woke, but he felt he deserved to sleep in at least once.

He walked into the bathroom and checked his reflection in the round mirror above the sink. His skin looked paler than usual and his eyes seemed red and bloodshot. He still felt a little sore but most of the pain ebbed away during his dreamless few hours of sleep. After using the bathroom, he scavenged their fridge and pulled out a package of bacon, a carton of eggs, and a couple of potatoes.

He used the extent of his cooking skills to make all of it on their stovetop, juggling cooking everything at once. When he heard the tap of a cane echoing down the hall, Newton grabbed a couple of plates from the cupboards above the counters and set them down beside the stove before plating the cooked food. He clicked off the burners and turned around just in time for Hermann to storm in.

"Do you know how late it is?" he scolded as he walked around the corner into the open space.

"Chill out, Hermann," Newton said with a bright smile on his face. "We'll get to work. I'll call in late, say I wasn't feeling well. It's not a lie."

"That's no excuse," he said, his face set in a disapproving glare. Newton was convinced that's just how his face looked as its default expression.

"I never said it was an excuse. You just looked like you could use some extra sleep," Newton said. He grabbed a plate off the counter and held it out to Hermann. "I made breakfast as a, uh, thank you. For looking after me last night."

Hermann frowned at the plate, eyes softening enough for Newton to notice. "Fine, we can go in a little late. Just this once. But if we get reprimanded, it falls on you."

Newton nodded. "Yes, sir. Totally my fault."

Hermann shook his head a little as he carried the plate to the dining table and Newton followed soon after with his usual morning tea. He never had to ask how to make it because he simply knew, information that leaked through during their Drift experience. Afterward, he made himself a coffee and sat down as well, the two of them eating in relative peace.

"So, did I have any other episodes last night?" Newton said, munching on a crispy piece of bacon.

Hermann shook his head. "No, nothing."

Hermann refused to look at him concentrating solely on the food before him.

"You still think it's PTSD," Newton said, knowing it was true.

"It just seems more reasonable," Hermann said, setting down his fork. "Certainly, it could be combined with and amplified by side effects of your Drifts with a kaiju, but at its core…"

"Your reasoning isn't wrong but you didn't feel it," Newton said, dwelling on what scarce details he could remember. "It felt like something in my head, leaving everything I saw and felt behind."

"Well, leave that recorder by your bed and keep notes if it happens again," Hermann said.

"You know what? I will," Newton said, staring at Hermann. "Wanna know why? Because it's mine anyway!"

"Oh, don't start this, Newton," Hermann said dryly, drinking from his mug of tea.

"I'm just saying," Newton grumbled.

Hermann shook his head and finished off his tea before piling the mug and fork onto his plate so he could carry it all in one trip. Newton called into work while Hermann showered then he walked to his room to clean up a little as he waited for his turn. A few minutes later when the water turned off, Newton walked out for his turn and the door opened to a cloud of steam and a sweaty, topless Hermann with a dark green towel around his waist.

Newton's eyes widened and he choked on his own saliva. He coughed until he could breathe again as Hermann glared at him. He held the towel with one hand and his cane with his other as he stared Newton down. Newton did the same, except his eyes raked over the entirety of Hermann's body, every inch of skin. His gaze paused on the scar tissue stretching along his left leg. A flashback hit him then, just a quick flash and blinding pain. At first he didn't realize that it wasn't his, but after a moment he knew it belonged to Hermann. That didn't stop him from flinching because of the pain he remembered but never experienced. Hermann practically growled until Newton moved his eyes back to his face.

"I left my clothes in my room accidentally. Excuse me," he said, barreling past Newton and into his room.

Newton stood frozen for a few moments while he processed what happened before forcing himself to walk into the bathroom and take a shower. They both dressed and left for work, arriving around ten to open up the lab. Their assistants were waiting for them when they walked up and Newton used his keys, throwing open the door and allowing everyone in ahead of him.

A yawn forced its way out of him as he walked into the lab. He collapsed into his desk chair and rubbed his eyes of the exhaustion he felt within them. A groan settled in his throat as he opened his eyes to see Anna and Erika waiting patiently for him to notice their presence.

"Is there anything you need us to do, Dr. Geiszler?" Anna said.

Newton shook his head. "I got nothing. I'm sure Dr. Gottlieb doesn't wanna be disturbed, though that makes it tempting to disturb him. You guys and Bryson can work on your individual research for the day. Anything on my side of the lab is fair game. You should probably ask the good doctor back there if you need anything on his."

Relief spread over their faces at the news and they nodded before setting up work stations at the tables beside the door. Newton turned and rested his forehead on the eyepiece of his microscope, internally sighing at how terrible he felt. He squeezed his eyes shut and collected himself before pushing away and rolling around to the side of the table where the partially dissected skin parasite lay in its case of ammonia.

When he opened up the case and looked down at the parasite, a flash of deep, bloody red consumed his vision. He gasped, quick and sharp, and jumped back hard enough that his chair rolled into the table behind him. He blinked away the horrible sight until he saw the lab again and looked around to find that no one had noticed his little episode. His chest heaved with panicked breaths but he quickly calmed down, regaining a normal rhythm.

He stole a deep, stabilizing breath and continued with his work by removing the parasite and picking up where he left off the night before. Time passed by, fast at first before dramatically slowing down when his lack of sleep caught up with him again. He stood up and stretched, feeling a lunch hunger flare up in his stomach. He walked down the line of tape that divided the lab in half to the refrigerator that sat directly on top of it against the wall between two tables.

He opened it and looked at the wide array of foods, most of them not belonging to him. The idea of stealing from any of the assistants rarely crossed his mind, but Newton glanced over to see if Hermann was paying attention before grabbing half of his roast beef and cheese sandwich and a plastic baggie of trail mix. Hermann remained sitting in a chair a few feet from the blackboards since they arrived, staring and occasionally jotting down notes in a pocket notepad. Newton knew he wouldn't notice the theft any time soon.

The coffee machine on the opposite end of the line called to him and he obliged, placing the sandwich between his teeth for safe keeping as he grabbed one of the probably clean mugs sitting beside it and filled it with what was left from the morning's pot. He bit the chunk out of the sandwich when he pulled it from his mouth and sat down at his work station to finish off the rest of it. Soon the sandwich was eaten, the coffee drained, the trail mix half gone, but he gained no energy as if something syphoned it out of him as he refilled it.

In a moment of weakness, he folded his arms on a table and rested his head, just for a second, and he accidentally slipped away. Instantly, his mind filled with horrific images of watching people die in droves. Their cries exploded in his ears and he felt nothing. Their blood, no more than red polka dots in the sea they fell into as the bridge was ripped away like paper. He exterminated them.

Then he was back in the deep red world, sucked through a vacuum into hell, and he felt bone-chilling fear. It wracked his body and brain, near paralyzing. The Precursors, he saw them, his creators, his masters. Then he felt himself die, energy ripping through him, tearing him to pieces that disintegrated soon after. Once he was gone, the darkness returned and a voice that echoed like a powerful deity spoke in a language he didn't know but understood all the same.

_**Hello, Newton.**_

He gasped, desperate for air, and tasted warm blood on his tongue. His vision swam, the darkness dissipating until the ceiling of the lab pieced itself into view and he could feel the hard floor at his back. Someone held his head as Hermann knelt down on one knee into his field of vision with the help of his cane. He coughed and blood splattered onto his shirt, another one he'd have to replace along with all the nosebleed incidents.

"Newton, can you hear me?" Hermann said, concern causing his tone to waver from its usual accusing state to one of panic.

"Yeah," he replied weakly, trying to sit up.

Hermann reached out with his free hand and gripped Newton's left forearm before pulling him up. Only the hands on his back kept him stable. He coughed again and spit the blood out onto the floor, wiping his face mostly clean with the sleeve of his already ruined shirt. His head pounded, just like the last time, threatening to break apart.

"What happened?" Hermann demanded, still holding onto his arm with a vice grip as if he might lose him if he let go.

"I, uh, fell asleep," he said with a sad, pained laugh.

"Help me get him into a chair," Hermann said to the people behind him.

Three pairs of hands grabbed him in different places and lifted until he stood shakily on his feet. With the team effort, Hermann and the lab assistants guided him into his rolling desk chair and Hermann grabbed another from a nearby table to sit across from him. Newton felt like he might vomit or pass out, he couldn't tell which.

"Go take a break, I'll get you when we're done," Hermann said to the lab assistants. When they all left, he turned to Newton with urgency in his tone. "What did you see?"

"There was a lot," Newton said, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to remember. "It was more focused this time. Um, I remember I was hurting a lot of people, killing them, and then I was in this place and everything was red. I felt terrified. Still do…"

Hermann reached over and grabbed his face, forcing him to look him in the eye. Newton stared at him, a fixed point, and inhaled a calming breath. "You're not there anymore, Newton," he said soothingly. "It was only a dream and there's nothing to be afraid of anymore."

Newton nodded and Hermann let go. "After that I, uh, I felt myself die," he said, keeping eye contact with Hermann to ground himself. "And then something spoke to me. It knew my name, Hermann."

"Whatever it was doesn't exist," Hermann said with conviction.

"It felt so real," Newton said, his voice and hands shaking in unison.

"Use your rational scientific mind, Newton."

"It's a bit harder to be rational when Satan just tapped into my head to say hello," Newton snapped.

"It was only a dream!" Hermann reiterated.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay," Newton said, dropping his head into his hands. "It was only a dream." He whispered it to himself over and over like a mantra.

Blood dripped from his nose into his palms, pooling there as Newton tried to keep his mind distant from the dream. He stopped whispering and moved his hands away, looking down at the dark liquid staining his hands. Hermann stood and grabbed a few paper towels from his side of the lab and cleaned up the blood from his palms and face.

"This is more serious than I originally suspected. We should schedule you for a brain scan," Hermann said as he wiped the last of the blood from his face.

"What? No," Newton said like an indignant child. "I don't need to see a doctor. I'm perfectly fine."

"Yes," Hermann said, shooting Newton a look that made him feel like he already lost, "bleeding profusely every time you fall asleep constitutes as perfectly fine."

"Maybe it'll stop on its own?"

"Or perhaps you'll die from blood loss or a brain hemorrhage," Hermann snapped. "Who is that neurologist friend of yours? The one you were in that band with."

Newton swallowed hard. "I don't know who you're talking about."

"Dietrich! Dr. Christoph Dietrich."

"That's not him!"

"Newton, give me your phone," Hermann said, holding out his hand.

"I don't—"

"NEWTON," Hermann growled, his glare piercing straight into Newton.

"Damn it," Newton hissed as he reached into the pocket of his pants and reluctantly held it out to Hermann.

Hermann snatched it from him and searched through his contacts, finding the right number quickly. He glared at Newton before standing and wandering away so that he wouldn't be interrupted. A wave of sick anxiety crashed over him as Hermann started to talk in hushed German, pacing a little as he spoke. He didn't want to see a doctor or know what was happening to him. Once it was given a name, it made it horribly real, real enough that it could actually kill him.

He nervously cracked his knuckles and shifted uncomfortably in his chair until Hermann hung up the phone. Newton balled his hands into fists to make the fidgeting stop as he approached and held out his phone to him. He snatched it back and stuffed it into his pocket before looking up at Hermann with an expectant expression.

"He's willing to do you a favor. You have an appointment for two in the afternoon tomorrow, no consultation needed," he said, looking fairly pleased with himself.

"Great," Newton replied with mock enthusiasm. "That's just… great."

"Do you want this to continue happening?"

"No," Newton begrudgingly admitted.

"Good," Hermann said, grabbing his parka from a hook near his chalkboards and pulling it on. "Grab your coat. We're going home."

"It's not that bad, Hermann," he pleaded.

Hermann shot him another argument killing look as he walked past him toward the door. "I'm sending the assistants home as well. Meet me outside."

Newton groaned but stood up and grabbed his leather jacket off the wall beside the door anyway. He dragged his weakened body out into the parking lot, pushed on his helmet, and sat on the bike until Hermann finally joined him. They drove off, Newton using every ounce of energy and concentration he had left to keep them balanced and alive. He felt grateful when they eventually pulled into their driveway and he could put up the kickstand and relax.

He rested against the handlebars as Hermann dismounted and grabbed his cane. After a second or two he managed to pry his own body off as well, following Hermann inside. He collapsed back against the door after closing it, shutting his eyes and immediately regretting it when he felt the fatigue. He rubbed his eyes back open under his glasses and forced himself to be alert.

"How much caffeine do we have in here? Coffee? Energy drinks? Adrenaline shots?" Newton said manically.

"We only have coffee," Hermann said, already preparing to make a pot. "Do you really think you can stay awake?"

"I've stayed awake for days on end. And I have to. I have to, Hermann," he said, desperation causing his voice to waver.

"All right," Hermann replied as he added the ground beans into the machine. "Then I'll join you. We'll keep each other awake."

"Are you sure, man?" Newton said, though he already knew that he was. He still felt like he had to ask. He always asked, just in case he ever wanted to back out.

"I'm positive. I saw your face both times, Newton. I know it wasn't a pleasant experience, what you saw. If I can help you avoid it, I will."

Newton, spur of the moment, pulled Hermann into a tight hug. It lasted all of two seconds before Hermann pried him off.

"Yes, yes. All right," he said flattening down his parka before simply removing it. "You're welcome."

"So," Newton said, a glint of something nearly malicious alight in his eye. "Monster movie marathon!?"

"Oh, must we?" Hermann droned as the machine started to spit out coffee into the pot. He hung up his parka on the hooks by the door and Newton did the same with his leather jacket and ring of keys.

"Come on. It'll be fun," Newton said excitedly, reinvigorated by the idea. "I think we have popcorn somewhere…"

Hermann looked like a groan sat in his throat, waiting to be free, but he held it back. Instead, he grabbed a couple of mugs from the cupboards, his own a plain black and Newton's plastered with a kaiju comic print. As soon as the coffee machine stopped sputtering, he filled them both and handed one to Newton. Newton stared at him hopefully and Hermann tried to resist him but Newton could feel his resolve weakening.

"Fine, I'll endure this marathon," he conceded.

Newton punched the air with his free hand before downing a mouthful of coffee. He set the mug down on a counter before scouring the kitchen for popcorn. He found a box stuffed behind a cereal box in the pantry and immediately threw one of the packages inside into the microwave that sat beside the fridge. Hermann watched him fly around the room in a whirlwind, quietly sipping his coffee and appearing decidedly disinterested. Newton popped two bags and poured both into a large, blue plastic bowl that he carried toward the living area, Hermann close behind.

When they reached the doorway, Newton maneuvered the bowl into Hermann's hand before rushing off to his room to grab his Blu-ray collection of monster movies. He shed his work clothes while in his room and pulled on a pair of torn black lounge pants and an Iron Man shirt that fit two sizes too large just so that he would feel more comfortable for Hermann's trek into the wonders of his film collection.

The stacks of thin cases sat lovingly arranged on a small, self-made metal bookcase next to his end table. He checked through the titles before grabbing a massive chunk of them and managing to balance them with the help of both arms and his chin. When he walked into the living area, Hermann's eyes widened fractionally at the sight of the stack that reached from Newton's waist to just underneath his chin. Newton grinned at him before setting the stack down in front of the glass entertainment center that their flat screen TV sat on.

The room itself was spacious, dark grey carpet, off-white walls, with black leather couches and chairs due to Newton's penchant for spilling food and drink on the furniture and floors. The wall across from the doorway was constructed to be a giant bookcase while old paintings and vinyl records hung decoratively on the others.

"These are arranged from classics to more recent stuff. Your pick where we start," Newton said, turning to look at Hermann.

"I honestly have no preference," Hermann said from his place on the couch.

Newton shrugged and knelt down, examining the different movies before settling on the first Jaws to start Hermann out with something simple. He pried open the case and slotted it into the sleek Blu-ray player and grabbed the needed remotes from the shelf beside it before joining Hermann on the couch. Hermann placed the popcorn between them as Newton hit play and they settled in for a long night of movie watching.

Throughout most of the first movie, Hermann held fast with a disinterested expression on his face, refusing to enjoy himself to any extent. He didn't touch the popcorn and sat with his arms crossed over his chest. Newton, with the energy and excitability of a puppy, kept looking over to see if Hermann was reacting at all of the right parts, only to be sorely disappointed. However, he refused to give up on the sturgeon-faced man.

The next movie, Predator, proved to be a large step up from man-eating sharks and Newton noticed, much to his delight, that Hermann became enthralled. His tightly crossed arms slackened and he grabbed a few pieces of popcorn as the movie played. By the time they reached District 9 and drank two pots of coffee, Hermann was actively engaged, discussing theory and probability with Newton and Newton reciprocated with nothing less than glee.

Ever since the war began and he started working with Hermann, Newton had no one to talk to about his interests since it was apparent Hermann wasn't interested. As they talked over the movie, Newton secretly wished he'd requested to do it earlier. He also thought that his interest was in part thanks to their time in the Drift.

Time flew by with movie after movie until it was six in the morning and they'd made all the coffee they had, forcing Newton to resort to caffeinated tea. He sat watching Godzilla destroy buildings as Hermann struggled to stay awake. The occasional incoherent mumble left his mouth before he finally lost his grip on consciousness, falling a short distance onto Newton's shoulder. Newton stared for a moment, perplexed, before mentally shrugging and turning back to the movie. He'd helped him all night so he deserved a few hours of rest.

Once the movie ended, he carefully wedged a hand between Hermann's head and his shoulder, lifting him up a few inches so he could stand up. Then using both hands, he gently lowered him back down on the couch in what appeared to be a mostly comfortable position. He didn't stir so Newton accepted that as a good sign.

He resisted the sudden, strong urge to lean down and kiss him on the forehead. What if he woke up? Then he would know. Except that he already knew, Newton realized. They both did and a long year passed without either of them mentioning it. The beginning wisps of a sigh passed his lips as he turned off the TV and the Blu-ray player before leaving him to rest and walked out into the kitchen where beams of early morning light peeked in.

He dumped the rest of the vanilla chai in his cup out into the sink and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. The caffeine in his system did nothing; he knew that for certain as he felt the weight of exhaustion pressing on him, making him bend like tree boughs in the wind. All that kept him awake throughout the night was the scratching he felt in his brain, claws digging into the folds and tearing them apart to get in. The soft, barely audible whispers that sent chills through him like electricity and filled him with dread. Everything he didn't want to see lay just beyond the thin veil between awake and asleep and the will to avoid it kept him going. Hermann being there as a safety net helped too.

He rummaged through the fridge and grabbed a bowl of leftover potato salad with a fork and sat down at the dining room table to eat. As he stabbed a chunk of potato and savored the taste, he built up a wall in his head between his conscious thoughts and the incessant whispers so he could make it through the day with his sanity intact. He only hoped that his brain scan would get results and that it would be easily fixed. He didn't want to die. He still had some things left unresolved.


	3. Chapter 3

When Hermann woke up, Newton was sitting in his room with a book open in his lap. Newton heard him as he sat up with a groan and heard the stifled noise of irritation when he realized he woke up in the room alone. He braced himself as he heard the sound of his cane moving closer until it paused outside of his doorway. He flipped the page, pretending to continue reading until he spoke up.

"Why didn't you wake me?" he said, anger creeping into his tone.

"You needed the sleep," he replied, finally looking up into Hermann's annoyance-lined face. "I kept myself awake just fine."

Hermann pressed his lips into a tight line but it appeared to soften when Newton flashed him an apologetic smile. He shook his head and left the open doorway, most likely to scrounge up what remained of the tea. Newton sat up straighter, trying to keep himself uncomfortable in order to stay awake as he read.

He stayed in his room for the entire morning as Hermann shuffled around the apartment, showering, eating breakfast, and cleaning. He managed to remain ignored until about noon when Hermann stood in his doorway once more, glaring disapprovingly. Newton continued to ignore him, the anxiety of what awaited him flaring up in his gut, causing his stomach to lurch and tighten. It didn't last long as Hermann marched in and grabbed the book from his hands.

"Dude!" he said, looking up.

"We're leaving for the hospital soon," Hermann chastised. "Please get ready. Be somewhat presentable."

"Presentable? Just to go see whether or not I'm gonna live?"

"Newton!" Hermann said sharply, his eyes widening in shock and horror, as if it was something he hadn't considered.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

Hermann shook his head and tossed the book onto Newton's bed. "Just get dressed. The cab I called will be here in an hour.

"A taxi? Dude, what about the bike?"

Hermann stared at him incredulously. "You've been awake for over twenty-four hours. We are not taking that infernal thing."

He ended the conversation by turning away and walking out of the room. Newton reluctantly stood up from the bed and showered, dressing in jeans and an old, olive green PPDC shirt he was given when he joined the K-Science division. He didn't feel much like a rock star in that moment, more like a man walking to his own death.

He walked out into the kitchen where Hermann was leaning against a counter, one hand on the glossy surface, tightly gripping a cleaning rag, and the other pressed over his eyes. He righted himself as soon as he heard Newton's footsteps, continuing to clean the already spotless area. Hermann scanned him with one of his judging once overs but it was too late. Newton already knew that he felt scared too.

When the taxi pulled up outside of their apartment, the feeling of dread in his gut flared up like an inferno. The thought crossed his mind that he could run, but it didn't last long, not with Hermann to stop him and nowhere to go. He glanced over at Hermann before stepping forward to go outside but a hand on his wrist stopped him.

"I just want you to know," Hermann said as Newton turned back toward him, "no matter what it is, we'll get through it."

"And if it is terminal?" Newton asked seriously, the last word sticking in his throat on its way out.

Hermann hesitated, his expression of stoicism faltering. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I'll be here for you either way."

Hermann let go of his wrist but Newton grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug. "Thanks, man," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded to Newton as they pulled apart before grabbing his cane and leading the way out. Newton grabbed his jacket and keys and soon they both sat in silence in the back of the cab on the route to the Berlin-Buch HELIOS hospital. They arrived thirty minutes prior to their appointment and filled out all the necessary paperwork before sitting down in the wooden-framed, striped-cushioned seats of the sparsely populated waiting room. The room itself smelled as clean as it looked with even the magazines on the tables as meticulously arranged as everything else.

Hermann continued to check his watch every few minutes, making Newton grow increasingly nervous. He shifted in his seat, moving from side to side, pulled off his jacket, and wrung his hands, until the door at the back of the room finally opened. They both sat up straighter as a doctor with messy blond hair and the beginnings of a beard stepped into the doorway. He smiled with a bright white grin as he spotted Newton and Newton couldn't help but smile back at his old friend despite the nerves causing him to feel ill.

"Newton!" he called out in a thick German accent as he tried to remain professional.

They both stood at the same time and glanced at each other. Newton could easily read Hermann's facial expressions and the one he wore in that moment was a question. Do you want me to come with you? Newton smiled at him reassuringly and Hermann seemed to relax.

"Come on, man. Come meet Christoph," he said clapping him on the back before they walked over to the door.

Christoph ushered them inside and met Newton in a hug once the door closed and Newton could feel the piercings in his ears brushing across his cheek. "Newt, it's been so long. I almost didn't recognize you," he said enthusiastically as they pulled apart. He kept a hold on Newton's arms, turning them over. "Look at all these tattoos."

"They're full-body, man. You wouldn't believe how many hours I spent in that chair," Newton said, happy to have someone who actually appreciated his ink.

"I don't doubt it. It's great work. You always had a thing for the monsters," he said with a smile as he let Newton's arms go. "But, of course, we're here for more serious matters. Follow me."

He led the way through the halls of offices and rooms and the two of them dutifully followed. He could tell that Hermann seemed tense; it radiated off of him and infected Newton. The muscles in his hands contracted as he balled them into fists and flexed his fingers back out again. They stopped outside of a door that held an engraved plaque with Christoph's name. Christoph opened it and motioned for them to go in ahead of him.

Newton walked into the small office and sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk that appeared to be from the same set as the ones in the waiting room. Hermann occupied the second one as Christoph closed the door and sat in the black leather rolling chair behind the wooden desk that was littered with papers. He smiled at them to put them at ease before holding out his hand to Hermann.

"You must be the man I spoke to on the phone. Dr. Gottlieb, was it?"

"Yes," Hermann replied stiffly, accepting and shaking his hand.

"I've been working with Hermann here for the past ten years or so," Newton chimed in.

"And you both helped to save the world, I hear," Christoph said, looking impressed.

"That's us, man!" Newton beamed as he threw an arm around Hermann's shoulders and drew him in against his will. "Rock star heroes."

"I knew you'd do great things, Newt, but you are quite the man," he said as Newton let Hermann go. "Anyway, back to business. Now, Newt, Hermann here told me that you've been having severe seizures and nosebleeds during sleep, is that right?"

Newton started to fidget again. "Uh, yeah. It's happened twice now. Not last night because I didn't sleep."

"Understandable if that keeps happening," Christoph said with a laugh. "Well, we're here to see what I can do about that. It could be a few things off the top of my head but I'm not about to jump to conclusions without more information. I have one of the MRI's booked for the hour so, just let me get a bit of paperwork in order and then we can head down."

Newton let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he leaned back in the chair. He looked over at Hermann who met his gaze and they spoke without words, something they'd been able to do easily over the past year. Newton spoke of fear and nerves while Hermann spoke of comfort and reassurance until Newton's emotional spike lessened into a calm hum just beneath the surface. He wanted to reach over and grab Hermann's hand, to feel him there by his side, but he just curled his fingers into his palm instead.

He watched Christoph as he fervently wrote on a few sheets of paper before he picked up a thin tablet on the right side of his desk. Christoph stood up and the two of them followed suit, staring at him expectantly. He beckoned them along, leaving his office to lead them to the MRI center in a nearby wing. They walked into the second room on the right that smelled sterile and looked blindingly white. A giant, hollow, cylindrical machine sat against a wall with little else around it. It looked intimidating to Newton, like the gaping maw of a beast he was about to be fed into.

Newton glanced up and saw the window to the scanner room where Christoph and Hermann would retreat to while he suffered inside the MRI machine. Christoph held out his tablet to Newton along with a tablet pen. He grabbed it from him and stared down at it, scrolling through the long block of text.

"What's this?" he said without looking up.

"A consent form," Christoph replied, crossing his arms. "By signing it, you're saying that you understand the risks involved in getting an MRI scan."

Newton nodded. "Right, right, giant magnet. I'm good," he said, scrolling down to the dotted line.

"Do you know if your tattoo ink carries metal?" Christoph said, pointing at them as Newton signed.

"Yeah, but it'll be fine. I can handle the irritation. I just wanna get this done, dude," he replied as he held out the tablet to Christoph.

Christoph poked at the touch screen for a minute before handing it off to Hermann. "Would you mind holding that for a moment and wait for me in the screening room, just through that door there," he pointed toward a door it the right of the machine. Hermann nodded and left the room before Christoph turned to Newton. "And if you'd go through the door just behind you to the changing room."

Newton glanced behind him to the wooden door and walked through it to a small room with a wooden bench and some cubby shelves to put clothes in. One of the wider shelves held a stack of paper thin hospital gowns. He disrobed and shoved his clothes in one of the shelves before slipping on the awkwardly fitting hospital gown over his white undershirt and boxers. He left the room once he fixed the ridiculous gown to his liking and Christoph led him over to the MRI table where he laid down. He shifted around on the hard slab but couldn't find a comfortable position.

"Normally an MRI tech would do all of this, but seeing as this is a favor, it's, for the most part, off the record," Christoph explained clearly and carefully. "Remember to remain still and hopefully we'll figure this out."

"Hopefully."

A couple of minutes after he left the room, the MRI started, obeying commands from the computer Christoph punched orders into, and the table moved backward into the open mouth of the machine. Once he was as far in as the machine needed him go, his head and shoulders completely surrounded within it, the noises began. It started with the whir of a fan that he could also feel caressing his hair and face. After a few minutes, a banging noise chimed in like a stick on an oil drum. Newton breathed in deeply, trying to get himself to relax, making a mental beat out of the cacophony of sounds and concentrating on it to keep his mind occupied and calm.

To keep his body still for a while seemed simple enough in theory but it proved to be a lot harder in practice. The magnet pulled at the iron pigments in the tattoos near his neck and chest, causing slight pain and severe irritation. On top of that, Christoph kept disrupting his mental rhythm to tell him to stop moving, which he would succeed in doing for all of two minutes.

Despite this, the MRI was able to pick up everything it needed to, giving a clear readout to Christoph and Hermann up in the scanner room. Christoph returned to the room after shutting off the machine and allowed Newton to put his clothes back on before leading him up to the scanner room for the final verdict.

"So, what's the deal, man?" Newton said as they entered the other room.

Newton felt intimidated and wary when Christoph sat down and both he and Hermann looked up at him with unreadable expressions. He swallowed hard and plopped down into a third chair between the two where he could see the computer screens set up on a long table in front of the window to the MRI room. He glanced at the brain scan the MRI spat out and, while he was more of a xenobiologist, he knew enough about the human brain to realize that no clear problem showed up.

"This can't be right," he said with a slight, nervous laugh as he turned to a grim looking Christoph. "There has to be something I'm not seeing."

"I'm afraid not, Newt," he said, his expression faltering, unsure of what feeling to show. "There is nothing wrong with your brain, at least nothing the scan picked up."

"Then do it again!" Newton said, panic causing his voice to rise. "Do it again with the intravenous dye. There has to be something."

Christoph shook his head. "Just from a glance, there's no bleeding, no tumors. You're in perfect health according to this. Hermann was telling me about how the two of you Drifted. I'm not an expert on damage that can occur from the Pons but perhaps something happened then that is not showing up here."

Newton dropped his head in his hands, feeling overwhelmed until a hand pressed against his back. A soft touch to absorb some of the stress. He stole a deep breath and exhaled the dread that rose within him. When he looked back up at Christoph, he felt as calm as he possibly could.

"Thank you for this, man. I appreciate it," he said, remaining calm with a clear head. "I know you must've had to pull a few strings. But yeah, you're probably right. I should see someone who knows about the Pons."

Several ideas floated through his mind on the matter, but he settled on one. He would look into it on his own. He did have a doctorate in biology and he knew enough about the Pons from exposure and experience to piece something together. His confidence grew the more he considered it and he left the hospital in a better mood than he had when he entered it.

He hugged his old friend goodbye before he and Hermann navigated their way out of the building to wait for the second cab that Hermann called for. A short wait later, they were on their way back home, sitting together in the back of the cab in silence as Newton found himself lost in thought. He knew Hermann would tell him to go on sick leave and all of that time at the apartment alone would be ideal to conduct his own research. Hermann never had to know.

When the taxi dropped them off, they walked into their apartment and shrugged out of their jackets. They relaxed, settling into the living room where Hermann sat in one of the chairs with a book, ignoring Newton who was sprawled out on the couch, flipping through the channels without actually watching anything. As he changed through all of the local news channels, thinking about how bored he felt, Hermann finally spoke up after remaining silent since they found out the news.

"I know what you're planning to do," he said, not looking up from his book.

Newton froze, slowly looking up from the screen to Hermann's face. "What do you mean?"

Hermann looked up at him over his reading glasses with a disapproving stare that made him want to shrink back into the couch. "I'm not ignorant, Newton, don't treat me like I am. I know you want to look into this yourself."

"And?" Newton said hesitantly.

"And I believe it's the best route possible given the situation," Hermann said, looking back down at his book.

"What? Seriously?" Newton replied, shifting his body until he sat on the couch correctly.

"Yes, quite seriously. You're one of the best in your field, Newton. You have the knowledge and the experience and the capacity to learn what you need to efficiently. I only ask that you consult someone who knows the effects of the Pons System better than you," Hermann said, turning the page.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Will do, man," Newton said, excitedly.

"See that you do. And please, inform me if you intend to do anything that may result in your death," Hermann said, lowering his book for a moment. "I'd like to see you make it through this alive and well."

He remembered Hermann's panic and worry when he found him after his solo Drift. Newton nodded his agreement and Hermann seemed satisfied. They both returned to their respective silences and Newton finally found some old cartoons to watch. After a while, Hermann stood up to retire to bed. He placed the book back on its shelf and turned to go but hesitated when he saw Newton.

"It's all right, Herm," Newton said, noticing his hesitation. "I'll be fine."

"Are you going to stay up?" he said, sounding concerned.

"I dunno yet. I might try to sleep. You never know, maybe this thing will stop on its own. Maybe the scan being clear meant it was gone."

"Maybe," Hermann said, appearing unsure.

"Even if it's not, those two episodes I had weren't life threatening. I can survive until I figure it out," he said, trying to reassure him but it only seemed to set him more on edge. "I'll be fine, Hermann, I swear. Besides, our rooms are across from each other. You'll know if something happens."

Hermann nodded. "All right. Goodnight, I suppose."

"Night, dude," he replied as Hermann left the room.

Newton stayed up as long as he could after that, staying conscious until the early morning hours, but once he started drifting off while he lay practically upside down on the couch, he knew it was time to at least try and sleep. He shut everything off in the room before going into his room and pulling on his pajamas. His bed didn't really seem that appealing as he looked at the disheveled covers, unmade since the last time he cleaned the sheets. Still, he knew that he could fall asleep standing up if he waited long enough, given that it had happened before, so he decided he might as well be comfortable as he suffered.

As he lay in his bed, he felt fear. He didn't know if it would happen again or not despite the results of his scan and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. In his bed, surrounded by comfort, security, and the weight of being depleted of all energy knocked him out against his will and stole him away. No flashes of images barraged him, there was nothing except darkness, but Newton didn't feel like he was alone.

Another being in his mind seemed to circle his consciousness like a predator, leaving Newton feeling scared and trapped. After a few minutes, the presence stopped pacing and faced him, as much as a disembodied manifestation could. Newton could feel everything even if he couldn't see it. Whatever it was loomed over him, holding him in place through sheer intimidation. When it decided to communicate, it did so on its own terms, choosing to speak without showing itself like the last time.

_**Newton.**_

_…Yes?_ Newton answered, feeling only slightly ridiculous for talking to a dream.

_**Good. You are listening.**_

_Dude, you're echoing through my head. I don't think I could avoid it, _he said, regardless of the chill of fear he felt.

The voice seemed to ignore him. _**I believe you hold the potential to help us, Newton.**_

_Help? Help who? Why would I want to?_

_**Help us. Help us take what is ours. Let us have your mind.**_

_My mind? Help you with what? I am so lost._

The being hit him with images of the Breach, energy crackling as the Earth split open. His consciousness shuddered from the implication. The presence crowded closer to him but he shook away the growing panic. If he woke up, it would all go away. It was only a dream, after all, even if it did feel real.

_Why would I ever agree to that? _Newton said, feeling the heart in his body start to race.

_**You have little choice.**_

_Well, I must have some choice or you wouldn't be asking. Why do you even need permission? You're already in my head._

_**We are only able to enter your unconscious mind when it is free of defenses. When you awaken, you push us out.**__**Poor choices carry consequences, Newton.**_

_What the hell is that supposed to mean?_

_**It would be unwise to say no.**_

Newton laughed, the sound resonating strangely off the walls of his mind. _What are you gonna do? Give me nightmares to death?_

The presence bristled angrily, causing an unpleasant static. The charge shocked him, probing into his brain but he was unable to stop it. He felt it poking around, searching for something that Newton couldn't place. It wasn't until it found what it was looking for that he figured out. It wanted to find a weakness.

It pulled out a memory he knew well, one of the first time he met Hermann. Ten years ago, both in their twenties, and Hermann appeared to be just as old and uptight then as he made himself out to be in the present. Back then Newton's arms were bare of tattoos but the beginnings of Trespasser, the first kaiju, were already inked on his right shoulder.

Both fresh out the Academy and recently enlisted in K-Science, they were immediately assigned to work together. The same personality tests used to pair together Jaeger pilots were used on the scientists to create the most productive and cohesive teams possible and the two of them learned they could only be paired with each other. So, as teams of three or four were assigned lab space within the Shatterdome, the two met each other in the smallest lab. The electricity of judgment and competitive tension was instantaneous.

They looked each other in the eye and shook hands, introducing themselves in turn just to be polite under the scrutiny of their superiors. In that moment, he decided Hermann was someone he would never choose to be friends with. It baffled him why the test paired them together unless they were simply the two remainders that couldn't be trusted to work alone. He didn't know how accurate it actually was, that he'd just met the most important person in his life.

_What about him? _Newton hissed, all humor gone.

_**If you refuse, we will move to him.**_

_So what? You need permission. If I'm saying no then he definitely will._

_**No. His mind is strong and of use but his body is frail. He does not suit our needs.**_

_What do you mean?_

_**If you refuse us, we will move to him. We will take what is useful and burn the rest.**_

In the next instant, his mind was flooded with images of Hermann on his bed, seizing and bleeding from the nose and mouth just as Newton had more than once. He saw himself rushing to his aid, shaking him, screaming his name, but he refused to rouse from his sleep. Hermann choked, drowning in the blood, and Newton leaned him forward to drain it out, but he stopped moving.

Newton froze, staring at him before shaking him slightly, as if he were only in a deep sleep. He set him down carefully on the bed before checking his pulse. Panic set into his expression as he started CPR while screaming for help. His face looked indecisive before he finally stopped for a moment and ran off to grab a phone. He dialed and spoke to emergency services as he continued to press down on his chest. When the call ended, so did Newton's hope. He dropped the phone and stopped the compressions. He held Hermann's body in his arms, sobbing into the crook of his neck until the ambulance finally arrived.

_NO! _Newton cried, the voice in his head cracking with devastation.

_**THEN SAY THE WORDS.**_

Newton hesitated. It was only a dream, wasn't it? What if it wasn't? He could feel hot tears running down his cheeks. Something in his gut told him he couldn't take the chance. _Fine. You have my permission. Just leave him alone._

The darkness melted away and his eyes opened to his room. His body was propped up in a sitting position, being held up by a hand clamped on each shoulder. He shifted his gaze and looked up at a terrified looking Hermann as he could feel tears still streaming of their own accord. His throat felt raw again, like the first time, and no sound left his mouth when he tried to speak.

"Oh, thank god," Hermann said in a whisper as he moved one of his hands to the side of Newton's face. "You were screaming for me in your sleep. You wouldn't wake up."

Another wave of tears bubbled up as he stared at Hermann's expression of pure concern. He grabbed the front of Hermann's shirt and pulled him down into his arms where he cried, leaving blood and water stains on the soft, blue collar. Hermann didn't hesitate, he simply pulled him in closer and held him without a word, letting him cry until he couldn't anymore.

When he finally stopped, he noticed that the fear he felt had gone as well, as if it leaked out along with the tears and blood. He pulled back a little just so he could look at Hermann who still appeared worried.

"Sorry about the blood," Newton said hoarsely.

"It doesn't matter," Hermann replied, his gaze remaining on Newton. "What did you dream of that scared you so much?"

Newton shook his head and pulled his arms away. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Newton," Hermann said, placing a hand on his upper arm.

"No. No, I can't. I really…" he trailed off, looking up with pleading eyes.

Hermann nodded. "Is there anything you need?" he said as he moved to stand. "Aspirin? A n—"

Newton panicked again, remembering what the voice in his head showed him. He reached out and pulled Hermann back down when he was in midsentence, keeping a hold on the front of his shirt. "Don't go. Please."

Hermann appeared startled and uncertain until he saw the raw fear in Newton. "Okay."

They both lay down and Hermann allowed Newton to rest against him, his arms wrapped around his torso. Hermann held him and he felt safe. He felt Hermann was safe as long as he stayed where he could keep an eye on him. He didn't sleep, he couldn't bring himself to, but he rest his head on Hermann's chest and listened to his breaths even out and his heart pound. He didn't need anything else to keep him going.


	4. Chapter 4

As dawn broke, Newton still felt shaken. He clung to Hermann like a lifeline, the only thing to keep him afloat in the middle of the ocean. Hermann kept a hand on his back even as he slept, a reinforcement that he was there for him. Newton felt comforted by it, but not wholly. He didn't know when he would feel completely at ease again, not with those things in his head.

Despite the physical symptoms, Newton began to wonder at some point during the night if he was losing his mind. Deep down, he knew he wasn't, that something about his brain was physically damaged, but hearing voices in his head didn't bode well in any situation. He thought about a lot as the hours passed, about how he could fix it, where he would begin his research, if anything he heard in his head was real or not. The last one distressed him the most.

If the voices weren't real, it meant something psychological on top of what was happening to him. If they were, it meant something a lot worse. He clutched Hermann tighter at the thought, causing him to groan and attempt to shift in his hold. Hermann moved his hands to Newton's arm, trying to gently pry it into a looser grip.

"I think you're crushing my ribs, Newton," he said, sounding strained.

"Sorry," he replied, unwrapping his arms from Hermann's torso. "You can, um, go back to your own room. If you want. I'm totally fine now."

Hermann glanced over at him and Newton hoped he didn't look like he was lying. He didn't want to be a burden. Hermann gave him a small, sad smile before throwing the covers off him and slowly pushing his body out of bed. Sadness swept over Newton but he tried to pat it down, knowing it was ridiculous to think he might stay.

"I'm going to go make some tea. D'you want me to bring you a cup of coffee?" Hermann said tiredly as he grabbed his cane from beside the bed.

"Oh," Newton said, surprised. "No. No thank you. I'll be out in a minute to make it myself."

Hermann paused at the door and looked back. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"As okay as I can be."

Hermann's brows creased in concern before he left the room. Newton lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment or two before he rolled out. When he stood up, he felt the weight of days without sleep press down on him, making each step a huge effort. He stood straighter, trying to shake it off for Hermann's sake. He didn't need to be worrying about him when there were more important things, like his work.

He rubbed his eyes before slipping on his glasses and walked out of his room with his head held high. Hermann placed a kettle on the stove and turned on the coffee machine when he walked into the kitchen. He ambled over and hopped onto one of the counters, sliding a little and swinging his legs back and forth as Hermann shot him a dirty look. Newton beamed at him and Hermann shook his head, turning to concentrate on the caffeinated beverages.

He sat and watched as the coffee dispensed into the pot and the kettle started to whistle a few minutes later. Hermann deftly poured out the water into a waiting cup with a tea bag before moving to the coffee, spooning sugar into both. He stirred them and handed the coffee to Newton before carrying his tea to the dining room. Newton frowned, hopping off the counter to follow after him.

"Something on your mind, dude?" he said as he set down his mug and sat in the chair next to his.

Hermann looked at Newton as if he just dropped IQ points. "I wonder. You still have blood on your face, by the way."

Newton reached up and touched his face just under his nose, feeling dried flakes of blood. "I'll be okay. You don't have to worry about me."

"If I don't, who will?" Hermann said without looking at him.

"My family?"

"And you want to tell them about this?"

Newton's frown deepened considerably.

"Precisely," Hermann said, staring into his tea. "I'm all you have. Of course I worry."

Newton gulped down his coffee, unsure of what to say. "Well, don't completely focus on it. We both have work to do."

"Don't flatter yourself, Newton," he said as he stood from the table. "I don't think about you that often."

Newton stared after him with a smug expression, wondering just how often he thought of him. When Hermann closed the door to his bedroom after walking inside, Newton cleaned the blood from his face and fetched his phone, calling the Shatterdome to use his accumulated sick time. His boss was reluctant to let him go, saying that they really needed both him and Hermann to further their research, but after explaining the severe, unexplained nosebleeds she allowed him two weeks off.

Newton lay down on his bed, listening to Hermann preparing for work as he thought about what he would do with his first day of no work. He could try and get a hold of someone like Mako or Tendo who knew more about the Pons than he did or do his own research on it. Hermann interrupted his thoughts when he appeared in his doorway and cleared his throat.

"You didn't take time off to lie about," he said in a nagging tone.

"I'm mentally planning, Hermann," he snapped.

Hermann narrowed his eyes slightly. "Make good use of your time. You need to recover as soon as possible."

"Okay, okay, I'm moving," Newton said, rolling off the bed.

He landed on his feet and followed Hermann out into the kitchen. A few minutes later, as Newton was making actual food for breakfast rather than just a cup of coffee, a taxi pulled up to their apartment. Hermann pulled on his parka and Newton walked away from his exact science of milk to cereal ratio to see him out. He paused at the door, turning to Newton with his free hand on the doorknob.

"Remember to ask for help if you need it," he said seriously. "You may have a genius level intellect but you can't do everything on your own, as much as I know you'd like to."

Newton nodded, feeling the seriousness radiating from him. "I'll do my best," he said, adding in his own mind that he could make no promises regarding something like that. Asking for help wasn't his forte.

"Also, try not to disturb the man upstairs. I'm almost certain he files more complaints about you than I do and we don't need to be evicted."

Newton grinned. "It's not my fault the dude doesn't appreciate good music."

"Very few people appreciate any music being blasted so loud that the walls shake. I'll call when I'm on my way home. Don't destroy anything," Hermann said as he opened the door and walked out.

"You're such a wet blanket, Herm," Newton called.

He thought he saw a smile cross Hermann's face for a second as he maneuvered himself into the backseat of the taxi. Newton waved him off until he was out of sight and closed the door, feeling the emptiness and silence of the apartment. He frowned as he tried to remember the last time they were apart and his memory failed him. Ever since they first teamed up, they'd worked together night and day, always just a hallway apart when they slept. Sickness had never been an issue working in Shatterdomes as the infirmaries were well staffed and stocked. Unfortunately, his illness was different with no apparent cure.

He walked back to his room where he settled down at his metal computer desk where his self-built and upgraded computer sat. He mostly used it for computer games but it proved that his engineering degree didn't go to waste. He brought up his internet browser and searched for some scientific papers on the Pons, focusing on the creator's, Dr. Lightcap's, findings. He could certainly build a Pons System, as proven by his first Drift, but he didn't know all of the effects it could have other than nosebleeds and temporarily ruptured blood vessels in the eye.

What he could find of Dr. Lightcap's research proved useful in regards to certain effects such as health improvement and slight personality adaption. That made sense to him given his experiences over the past year. He'd noticed that there were times when Hermann didn't need to rely so much on his cane, though he never mentioned it. He also noticed that their personalities had leveled out some, causing them to clash less.

Out of all the research he sifted through, not one paper said anything about hearing voices other than that of one's Drift partner. He rested his forehead on his arms, a frustrated sigh on his lips. He abandoned Dr. Lightcap's work for the time being and looked for other research, experiments, theories, hypotheses, making use of his work status to access semi-classified papers. In order to access anything more classified, he'd have to use a work computer or hack into the Shatterdome mainframe. He made a mental note to convince Hermann to download any relevant information onto a flashdrive. Once again, after looking at paper after paper, it all turned up nothing pertinent to his condition.

Newton stood from the desk chair and threw himself onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow to muffle the loud groans of irritation and disappointment. He checked the time on his digital alarm clock and it said that about five hours had passed, making it two in the afternoon. His eyes felt heavy and painful after staring at the screen for so long and a body-wracking yawn prompted him to make a cup of coffee.

He padded out to the kitchen and prepared the coffee machine before turning it on. A strange feeling in his head blossomed at the back like a dull itch. Absent-mindedly, he reached up and scratched his scalp as he walked to the cupboard with the mugs. The itch spread rapidly, consuming his whole brain, and no matter how much he scratched it didn't stop. He reached up and grabbed a random mug, just holding it for a moment. After a blink, the itching ceased and the front door opened behind him. He turned to see Hermann shutting the door behind him before he hung up his parka.

"Hey, Herm!" Newton said happily. "What are you doing back so early?"

"Early?" Hermann said, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Newton, it's ten o'clock. What were you doing that you didn't hear my call?"

Newton stared hard at Hermann with a matching expression. "Ten? That's a joke, right? You've finally learned how to tell a joke?"

"Why would I joke about the time?" Hermann said incredulously.

Newton looked to the nearest clock, a digital display on the microwave, and felt shocked to see that it confirmed Hermann's statement. Somehow, eight hours had passed in a literal blink of an eye. His stomach lurched and flipped over as his vision grew fuzzy around the edges. He reached out and grabbed a counter to steady himself.

"Are you all right? You look ill," Hermann said, concerned.

"I'm, uh, I'm fine," he said with a shaky smile as he set down the mug. "Working too hard, I guess. How the time flies."

Hermann frowned. "What time did you think it was?"

"Well, not ten, that's for sure," he said with a short-lived laugh.

"Newton, is this a new symptom?"

Newton panicked, chewing on his lip as he quickly pondered his options. Truth or lie. He didn't want to concern Hermann further. It was his problem and he would figure it out on his own.

"I'm fine, Hermann! I just got lost in the research." He seemed set as ease and Newton felt his own stress ease slightly. "How was your day? Any huge breakthroughs?"

Hermann shook his head as he walked to the fridge. "No, no, not yet, but I feel like I'm close to something."

"Close to what?"

"Can't say just yet," he said, making a dissatisfied grunt as he looked within and didn't find what he wanted. He closed it and turned to Newton. "I can't until I'm positive about it."

"That could take years, Herm. Bouncing ideas might help," he said as he crossed his arms.

"That usually ends in an argument."

"A helpful argument!" Newton replied cheerily.

Hermann shook his head and walked off. "We'll see."

Once Hermann was in his room with the door securely shut, Newton dropped his calm façade, feeling the panic rise and his heart beat fast. He clutched his chest with one hand and held on to a counter for support with the other. He brain seemed incapable of forming a coherent thought other than: Oh my god, what's happening to me?

He sunk to the floor and rested his head in his hands, trying to work out all of the possibilities that didn't involve insanity. Exhaustion, confusion, more unknown side effects. He calmed down a little as he listed them off like a mantra of rationality. Yet, despite the cause, he just lost eight hours of time and anything could've happened. He woke up in the same position, but did he really stand in one spot for that long? He didn't and couldn't know. That scared him the most.

After a few deep breaths, he stretched out his arms and legs, feeling a dull ache start to set in them. He pulled his body up to his feet and swayed a little, exhaustion catching up with him again. The last thing he wanted to do was sleep, the thought of it made him feel ill and terrified, but he couldn't keep staying up each night. It would kill him eventually. A resigned groan forced its way through his lips as Hermann exited his room.

"Are you all right, Newton?" he asked as he walked down the hall into the kitchen.

"Yeah, fine!" he replied with a shaky smile.

Hermann frowned. "I just came to extend the offer of you sleeping in my room tonight. In the chair or on the floor," he added, clearing his throat as a flush colored his cheeks. "You seem to sleep easier when not alone."

Newton could barely register what he was saying. He grinned at Hermann. "I appreciate it but, uh, no. I'll… be fine. I hope."

"If you're sure," Hermann said, staring at Newton as if trying to read him. "Then I'm off to bed. Call out if you need me."

"Will do, Herm." Newton replied cheerily, keeping up the act until he was out of sight.

He stared off after him as if the space where he once stood would give him answers but it only gave him silence and a deep seated feeling of dread. Maybe he should've accepted his offer. Maybe he had a point. Yet, the whole situation was something he wanted to deal with on his own. The problems belonged to him, so the solution should be born of him as well. He didn't need Hermann to help because he was a genius all on his own with six doctorates to prove it. Still, he caught himself staring at Hermann's door as he passed it on the way to his own.

Once inside with the door shut, he made himself as comfortably uncomfortable as possible. He dressed in his work clothes, pulled all of the comfortable blankets from his bed, leaned his back up against the headboard, and turned on the lamp on his nightstand. He sat with his laptop-one gifted from his work for work purposes that he wasn't supposed to customize but did anyway- and decided to spend his time attempting once more to gather relevant research.

Hours passed, bringing the dusky hours to blackness before the bleeding of early morning. By that time, as the sun edged its way over the horizon, Newton passed out without realizing it. One moment, he was questing on an old fantasy RPG he found lying around during one of many breaks, the next, the creak and click of his door shutting woke him with a start that caused his heart to race.

The open laptop that once rested on his chest fell off onto the bed beside him, screen black and asleep. His white shirt lay untucked and wrinkled and his tie wrapped around his neck like a starved, black boa constrictor. His wiped away some drool from the edge of his mouth before standing up, stretching out the kinks caused by sleeping awkwardly.

He left his room, walking down the hall to the kitchen where the coffee lived, and discovered Hermann who was washing up his dishes from breakfast.

"Dude, why were you in my room this morning?" Newton said groggily.

"I was checking up on you," Hermann mumbled as he scraped at a plate with the briny side of the dish sponge. "You seem to have slept without issue."

"Yeah, well," Newton replied, fixing his shirt and tie, "do it a little quieter next time."

Hermann shot him an unamused glare.

"You cannot take a joke. Why do I like you? Seriously," Newton said with a small smile he struggled to hide.

"I ask myself that each day," Hermann said in a deadpan tone. "I have yet to find a logical answer."

Newton grinned widely at him as Hermann looked over his shoulder for a moment, sporting an endeared-if not mildly tired-smile of his own.

"I am pleased to see you well. I take it you made progress yesterday? I apologize for not asking last night as I was caught up in my own research," Hermann said as he rinsed off each dish and placed it in the rack beside the sink to dry.

"I totally understand, dude," Newton said, leaning his lower back up against the counter beside Hermann. A short, unsure smile crossed his face as he thought about the day before. "Actually, I, uh, didn't find anything. Not yet, anyway."

Hermann narrowed his eyes at him. "Then your condition is improving on its own?"

Flashes of the day before plagued him, the time he lost, the panic he felt. He wiped it away and replaced it with a cheerful expression. "I guess so? I'm going to keep staying here, doing research, until I know for sure."

Hermann nodded, his expression turning into a frown.

"Don't give me that look, dude. I know things like this don't just come and go for no reason. I'm gonna figure it out."

"I hope so," Hermann replied as he set out the last of the dishes to dry.

"Don't worry about it," Newton said with a reassuring smile even though every form of worry roiled within him in that moment.

Hermann still appeared unsure, but walked away to finish preparing for work even though Newton could tell he had more to say. He glanced around the kitchen, finding that he barely had the stomach to eat despite the intrusive rumble he felt in his gut. His whole body shook with nerves and anxiety, wondering if or when he would lose time again. It was that thought that turned his stomach from hunger to nausea. Still, he checked the fridge in case something caught his eye but ultimately left with nothing.

He wandered back to his room, leaving the door open to the uncontrollable mess and sat down at his desktop computer. As Hermann readied himself for work, Newton searched for possible causes of lost time. He became so absorbed in the research, he could only offer a grunt of "mhm" when Hermann proclaimed he was leaving. With each link he clicked on, he drew the conclusion that none of the results fit him. He never harbored much hope to begin with that it would relate to something other than his unexplained condition, but confirming it caused a sinking feeling, like he were dropping through the ocean waters, through the Breach, unable to swim to the surface.

Hopelessness and helplessness ravaged his mind, leaving him more lethargic than he'd ever felt in his life. He sat back, staring at the computer screen without really seeing it, and sighed deeply. Newton remained in that one position for a few minutes until he gained the energy and will to pick his body up and move into the living area. He promptly collapsed face first onto the couch, groaning and feeling lost.

Hours passed and he didn't bother moving from his spot for anything but food and bathroom breaks. He spent the time playing video games on the Playstation 6 so that he didn't have to think about anything other than killing tangible enemies until he sunk into trance. In the middle of a boss battle, Newton felt an itch in his brain, like a thought he couldn't remember nagging at him, but one he needed to physically scratch. He paused the game to reach up and scratch at his scalp when a feeling of déjà vu hit him hard. He felt sick when he realized why, as he felt the same exact thing just before he lost time the day before. His panic level rose as he looked frantically around the room as if he could grab hold of something to keep him grounded in the present.

He blinked and opened his eyes to see the night sky, freckled with stars shining above his head. The air assaulted him, cool and sharp, claws dragging across his flesh, through the leather of his jacket. He staggered back a couple of steps as if struck in the chest until his back his a wall. He jumped forward and turned to see the brick wall of an old gas station shop that had gone out of business long ago, its sign rusted and broken, the windows boarded up, appearing wholly unwelcoming.

Newton swallowed hard, feeling his anxiety building fast as he looked around for anything familiar and found nothing. He caught his reflection in one of the boarded windows, lit by a nearby streetlamp, and could've sworn he saw something that glowed an iridescent blue. He turned and saw nothing of the sort. Each breath grew shallower, his throat raked raw by each intake of the chilled air, until he was hyperventilating.

He backed into the wall of the store once more, gasping for air without ever seeming to get any. His chest tightened, ribs crushing around his heart and lungs. Frantic hands clutched at his chest as he sunk to the sidewalk. Just as he felt like he was about to fall fully into the rising panic attack, his mind grew quiet, his body numb, feeling absolutely nothing.

He sat on the emptying sidewalk, only seeing and hearing, no thoughts crossing his mind and no emotions to disrupt the normal operation of his body. He breathed in and out rhythmically, calmly, staring straight ahead at another dark building across the street.

_**Human emotions, **_a voice boomed in his head. _**They are… so loud.**_

Slowly, the feeling returned to his body, starting in his feet and working its way up until he could feel the blood leaking from his nose, dripping down to his chin. He reached up to brush it away before it stained his shirt and looked down at it in the dim light of the streetlamp. It didn't look right to Newton. The color appeared too dark, muddled, and seemed to be more purple than any shade of red he'd ever seen. He chalked it up to the poor lighting but with what had been happening, he wouldn't have been surprised.

A wet feeling coated his inner ears and he knew he'd find blood there too. He rested his back against the cool, crumbling brick with a sick feeling in his stomach and a buzzing in his brain like radio static. He looked up into the night sky, feeling so small and alone.

Terrified.

He stared hard into the black void, between the stars, past solar systems and galaxies. He pictured the Anteverse in his mind, the red hellscape, and whispered out into space.

"Help me."


End file.
